Where has the time gone, and when will it come back?
by eleventeenfifty
Summary: She wasn't suited for hunting, for jumping place to place. She wasn't made for shooting and stabbing and burning, for exorcising. She wasn't right for all these things, and if she couldn't do those, she certainly wasn't right for being a Winchester. What if Sam and Dean had a sister? What if she didn't want to be a hunter? What if she didn't want to be a Winchester?
1. Lightning never strikes the same place

**Fall, 1998**

_They say a car is one of the safest places to be during a storm, that doesn't make it any less scary._

She sat in the back seat of her dad's car, watching the rain pound against the windows. Thunder interrupted any thoughts she might have been having as lightning clashed with a nearby telephone pole.

That wouldn't be her problem. She didn't live in this neighborhood. She lived nowhere and everywhere all at once. She lived with her two brothers and her father. She lived here, in the impala. And it was a great place to live, it really was, but, being a thirteen year old girl, she wanted a real house. A house with a picket fence and shutters and real walls and a real roof, that's what she wanted. But she wasn't going to get that. It was simple, she knew how it would all play out.

She was young, but she could tell her brother didn't want this. He wanted all the things she did. He wanted to go to college, he wanted a girlfriend, he wouldn't admit it but he wanted kids. And he was right to want all those things. He was only fifteen, why shouldn't he want to stay in one place for more than a couple months at a time? He wanted to slow things down, take a step back, be a family. A normal family. Not like they were now.

And then there was the eldest. The protector, the one who just wanted his family safe. He didn't want to slow down, he was happiest on the highway, in the fast lane. His top priorities were family, the car, and, of course, pie.

She loved her brothers more than she loved life itself. She loved being part of the family, even if they were always moving, even if she didn't entirely belong. She didn't completely remember the day she met her father. In fact, she usually chose to block the whole memory out and pretend she had always been with them.

It was in July of 1988 that she became a part of the strangest group of people she thought she'd ever meet, her own family. She was only three the first time she spent a cold night on scratchy motel sheets.

_Her mother was a nice woman, though she never was one to back down from a fight. Or decline a bet. She bet her soul at a poker game, which, in all reality, was a very stupid thing to do. But she never lost, so why not?_

_The Winchesters were pretty big talk around the town, John Winchester specifically, having helped the police with a few 'odd murders' just out town lines. Everyone had heard of them, not excluding one Dana House._

_Like it was earlier said, Dana never lost. Unless the other player was cheating. And, as she should've known, you can never trust a demon. When she finally did lose, the game as well as her soul, her first concern was for her daughter. Naturally, she made a very quick decision on who would take care of her. Why, the one and only John Winchester of course._

So, no, she wasn't exactly related to the Winchesters. Not even a little. Her last name, though it had been a topic of discussion, was never changed. And yes, she tried not to think about it, since it hurt to think that her 'brothers' knew she wasn't even close to being their real family, it was all she could think about on this night.

She wasn't suited for hunting, for jumping place to place. She wasn't made for shooting and stabbing and burning, for exorcising. She wasn't right for all these things, and if she couldn't do those, she certainly wasn't right for being a Winchester.

* * *

**October 31, 2005**

She heard the two fighting through the door. She heard them land on the ground, and sincerely hoped no one was getting hurt. Uncomfortable with breaking into her brother's home, she opted for just knocking on the door.

She hadn't seen her brother in nearly four years. He would be twenty two now, since she was twenty. He'd gotten all the things he wanted, a girlfriend, a home, college, no kids, but she was sure that would come soon enough. Or, it would've, if she wasn't there to ruin it.

The last time she'd seen him had been a screaming match. Not between him and herself, but between him and their father. And it was almost exactly like she thought it would be. The only difference between how she'd imagined it and how it actually was, was that it was louder in reality. She'd never been able to do that. She could never yell at her father. It was hard for her even to rebel as a teenager. Then again, when there are so little rules, it's generally hard to break them.

Once the banging around stopped, and she heard them talking, she knocked on the door. She'd avoided most of the conflict.

She always had. Instead of dealing with her father like Sam did, she just up and left. As soon as she turned eighteen, she just left. She walked out the door and took the scholarship she'd been offered. She was college bound and her father knew it.

When no one answered the door, she knocked again.

She heard a feminine voice on the other side, and then of course Dean hitting on her. When she heard the doorknob jiggle, her first instinct was to hide, but she didn't. She stood there, waiting like she should. The pair walked out slowly, the taller of the two bumping into her.

"Hi Sam," she said, looking down.

"Gracie?" he asked, surprised.

She smiled up at her brother, wishing desperately that they were young again, wishing all three of them could spend nights in the back of the impala again, like they did when they were kids.

"I thought you'd be in college," he said confusedly.

"I was, I mean, I am but dad - uhm, John - needs help," her smile faltered and faded.

"Right," Dean resumed, "Sammy. Dad's missing; we need you to help us find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst, or the devil's gates in Clifton? He was missing then too, he's always missing and he's always fine," he protested.

"Not for this long. Now you gonna come with me or not?" Dean asked hopefully.

He shook his head, "I'm not."

"Why not?"

He sighed, "I swore I was done hunting for good."

"Sam, please. I liked it about as much as you did, but John needs our help," she begged.

"You think our moms would have wanted this for us? The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets? We were raised like warriors."

"So, what are you gonna do? You just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?" Dean nearly yells.

"No," Sam began. "Not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away? " Dean scoffed.

Grace swallowed. She knew all too well that everything he said to Sam was directed at her as well. She ran away too. She left John and Dean, she let them down. Blocking out the rest of the conversation seemed the best way to avoid getting her feelings hurt, which was probably best. She was being such a girl. She was the one who'd decided to run away from all her problems, and now she was gonna get butthurt when someone had something to say about it.

John was right. She couldn't have both ways. She couldn't hunt and have a family. She knew from experience. That wouldn't work. She wouldn't put anyone through that.

She heard the trunk slam shut and was called back into reality.

"You know in almost two years I've never bothered you. Never asked you for a thing," Dean reasoned, still visibly angry.

"Alright, I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here," he offered.

Grace got in the back seat, hoping the car would block out any sounds of conflict about Sam's schedule. Her brother was going to be a lawyer. Like he always wanted to be. He was going to have everything he ever wanted, if only her and Dean weren't there to take it all away.

* * *

**A/N: For anyone who was wondering, my other story isn't dead. It's just taking me a while to get it going again after my WiFi was taken away. But yeah, what if? So, sorry Grace doesn't have the Winchester charm ;)**


	2. The best day all around

**September 19, 1998**

_School wasn't bad, but she still didn't like it. The people weren't bad, but she still didn't like them._

Another first day of school, another library to hide in, another warning from Sam not to get too attached. That was normal, it had always been that way. The only difference was that in earlier years Dean would've been with them. He still drove them to school sometimes, sure, but the first thing on his mind was getting back home.

It was totally okay with her that this wouldn't be the last first day of school she'd have this year. Honestly, she'd gotten used to it. She was used to it and it wasn't all bad, but it wasn't good either.

As she walked into her new school, the first thing she looked for was who was who. There would always be groups of people. The people who belonged together, and then on the outside were the rejects who formed their own groups and mingled amongst themselves. That was where she belonged.

After parting ways with Sam, she was bombarded by questions from an older girl, "Is that your brother?"

She nodded.

"Does he have a phone?" the girl asked.

Grace hesitated, but nodded again.

"And you probably know his number, right?"

With that, Grace shuffled through her backpack for a pen and ripped a small piece of paper out of her notebook. She wrote the number neatly and folded the paper four times, then handed it to the girl.

Her brothers were lucky. Always getting hit on and having people actually like them. She'd probably had that happen once or twice, too, but she never picked up on it. It'd actually probably happened more times than she would imagine, but new levels of humble came with her.

The girl walked triumphantly away, holding up the little piece of paper for her friends to see. Either she'd just made her brother's week, or she'd ruined it. She couldn't feel good about either due to the fact that she wouldn't know. She'd be getting textbooks this week, meaning she'd be in her room the whole time just reading for the sake of reading.

She started walking towards her first class almost mechanically, expecting as always to be tripped or even once somebody threw a paper ball at her. She would have an English homeroom this year, which, by far, was her favorite. All in all, this first day wasn't half as bad as some of her others. So all she was left to do was worry about the next one.

* * *

**September 17, 2008**

It was strange wandering around Bobby's on her own. Every time she'd decided to do cartwheels in the basement there had always been Dean to tell her that was dumb and that she'd get hurt, but he wasn't there this time. He wasn't being an overprotective older brother right now, like she wanted him to be. It was easy to do nothing because somebody told you to, much harder to do nothing on your own volition.

But nothing was all there was to do. She missed both of her brothers, one of them being in Hell and the other just gone. All she could do was sit in the kitchen and think about nothing in particular. Thinking usually led to thinking about Sam and Dean, so she tried to avoid that too.

"Who was on the phone?" she asked curiously.

Bobby rolled his eyes. Always wanting to know everything. "Some idjit pretending to be Dean."

* * *

**September 18, 2008**

Everyday was the same. Get up, have cereal, take a shower, watch reruns of Dr. Sexy and then go to sleep. The avoidance of thinking was the hardest thing, but she managed pretty well. She probably would've done better on that part if not watching Dean's favorite show.

Her day was as mechanical as it was in school, when she'd get up, have cereal, take a shower, go to school, hide under her bed with a book and then go to sleep. But Bobby didn't have her kind of books. She wanted Auden and Poe, but had he had were books about lore and gore.

There were some days she considered breaking her routine. She gave the thought of just running, not driving, just running down the street screaming something about freedom the hardest look she'd ever given it.

There was a knock on the door as she ate her Captain Crunch. That wasn't routine.

"I'll get it," she yelled. She opened the door slightly and looked outside. "Bobby," she called, "Come here."

Bobby came and opened the door fully. And there stood her brother, looking tired and cautious.

"Surprise," he smiled.

"I- I don't," Bobby began, but trailed off.

Grace slowly grabbed the knife on the table, hoping for many reason that it was her Dean, but also hoping it wasn't. She handed the thing to Bobby and waited for him to do something.

"Yeah, me either," he said, stepping into the house. "But here I am."

As he stepped closer, Bobby did too, and soon he was trying to attack her brother. She cringed, never having been one for violence.

"Bobby it's me!" he yelled.

Bobby mumbled something she was sure only him and Dean could hear, but she was also sure he swore, so she couldn't care less.

Dean pushed a chair between them, hoping to explain himself. He pointed at his sister, "Your name is Grace Ann House, you were delivered to my dad's motel room after your mom lost her soul in a poker game and you're the closest thing I've ever had to a baby sister. Guys, it's me."

Bobby stepped closer to him, putting his hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, he slashed again. Dean managed to get the knife away from him, and moved backwards with it.

"I'm not a shapeshifter!"

"Then you're a revenant!"

Dean held out his arm and rolled up his sleeve, "If I was either could I do this with a silver knife?" He cut a slit just above his elbow where a line of blood formed.

* * *

**September 18, 2008**

She sat in the car, waiting for the right time to go inside. She wanted to wait until they were done fighting or whatever, but she didn't want to miss the touchy feely reunion afterwards. The right time would be about now.

She got out of the car and walked down the dingy hallway, looking for her brother's room. When she found it, she knocked carefully and quietly. And nobody answered. It was like 2005 all over again. So, when nobody did answer, she just opened it herself.

She found her brothers hugging, Bobby standing there smiling, and a nice young lady waiting for something.

"Are you two like, together?" the lady asked.

It was obvious that everyone had forgotten she was there.

"What? No he's my brother!" Sam said.

"Yeah, uh, okay I guess I should probably go," she motioned towards the door.

"That's probably a good idea, sorry."

* * *

**September 19, 2008**

The entire place shook and rattled. She wasn't entirely sure what those two idiots did this time, but she knew it wouldn't be good. Nothing they did ever turned out well, good intentions never paid off.

When she walked in, she was Bobby and Dean. Just Bobby and Dean with shotguns. Totally normal stuff. But as soon as she opened her mouth to ask what was going on, it was Bobby, Dean, and some guy in a trench coat. The light bulbs above his head shattered in a shower of sparks as he walked beneath them. As he came closer, Bobby and Dean opened fire, but it didn't slow him down.

"Who are you?" Dean asked, well, yelled.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

So it was, though informally, the anniversary of the first day of the best year of her life that she met her brother's savior. His knight in shining armor, and therefore hers as well.


	3. The secret about apple pie: life sucks

**December 4, 1998**

_Here it was. She knew it was coming. It still hurt like hell._

She threw her bags in the trunk and slammed it shut. She didn't want this. She didn't want to leave. She had a friend here.

It seemed pointless to argue leaving when she'd only made one friend in this town, but she had somebody. She didn't have that in her other schools. Sure, she knew Sam and Dean would be there for her when she needed them, but what about when she didn't need them? What about when she just wanted to talk about that cute guy in science class? What about when she wanted to talk about the fact that now she would never see said cute guy again?

She needed a friend. A best friend. A sister. Her brothers were great, there was no doubt, she'd go to hell and back for those two, and she knew they'd do the same for her. But she needed somebody to have those chick movie moments with and her family wasn't the place for that.

"I had friends here too Gracie, you gotta just move on," Sam told her.

But he couldn't understand. He made friends easily, even when he was trying to concentrate on school. Hell, he even beat up the bully. So he couldn't possibly understand how it felt to go to a new school every few months and have the same thing happen every time. He couldn't possibly understand how it felt to get his hopes up about maybe, just maybe this place will be better. And there was no way in hell he'd understand how it felt just when she'd made a friend, just one friend who would talk about anything with her, and then just be expected to leave. Sure, she was being dramatic, but she had every right to be. It was the same thing every time.

Just for one day, she wanted just one day that she could live a perfect, apple-pie life with her mom and John and the boys. But in her apple-pie world, she couldn't have John and the boys. She'd be living with her mom in some shabby apartment in a shady part of town. And, she thought, maybe she'd be okay with that.

* * *

**December 4, 1998**

"Mom," she yelled. "I'm home!"

She threw her bag down in a chair and headed for the fridge. As per usual, all that was in the refrigerator was cheese, butter, and leftover pie from the diner where her mom worked. She got herself a piece of pie and settled down in front of her laptop. When she took a bite, she wasn't surprised to find that it was apple.

Apple pie. So boring, so normal, so safe and so fake. She'd tasted pie before. Pie was good, but this wasn't it. It was too sweet. It wasn't sticky enough. Something was missing.

She resumed her browsing of the town's 'new and improved' online newspaper. Nothing seemed interesting. There were sports, politics, hell, she even looked through the personals for giggles. But one thing stood out.

_**New information on the Grafton grave robberies.**_

_Witnesses claim to have seen one man in the Bailey Hill Cemetery late Sunday evening. Authorities have a suspect in custody, but cannot release any more information on the man right now. There is doubt that this suspect is the culprit, so we have been warned to be on the lookout for a man in his late thirties to early forties around six feet tall and average weight. He is said to have dark hair and look something like the drawing in this article. We would like to remind you that this man is probably not from here. We understand that it is very hard to see someone from Canaan doing something like this, and even though it is very slight, there is a possibility that the actual suspect is still in town if the man in custody is proven innocent._

Next to the article was a sketch of somebody who looked familiar. She'd definitely seen him somewhere.

"Hey mom," she called, "Come look at this."

Dana walked slowly into the kitchen, dropping a wet cloth on the stove as she approached her daughter. "What is it Grace?"

"You know this guy?" she asked, motioning to the screen.

"He's been in the diner couple of times, John, I think."

_John_. That seemed right. That seemed easy.

"Does he have kids? I think I've seen him before."

"Boys," Dana nodded. "Two of 'em. Just moved here somewhere 'round September."

Two new students. She could only think of one that she had classes with, but she'd heard him talk about his brother before. Sam, his name was Sam. He was in her math class. Winchester.

_Sam Winchester_. That sounded right, too. That sounded familiar. She'd known him longer than a week, surely. It felt like she'd known him her whole life.

* * *

**December 5, 1998**

He was gone. Just gone. Completely and utterly not there. He didn't just call and say he was sick, he didn't just skip school, he transferred.

Something didn't feel right. She wasn't supposed to be here, either. She was being over dramatic, surely.

But she didn't think so. If the Winchesters weren't there, she had no business being there either. It was like she belonged with them. Like she was one of them.

_She was one of them._ Then, she got it.

* * *

**May 3, 2007**

"Dean?" she called out quietly, shaking her brother violently. "Dean wake up. God, Dean, please wake up."

Her brother hung there with a blood bag attached to him, full and hanging with him. She was angry. With Sam for not being here. With the djinn. With him. She was angry with Dean because he wouldn't wake up and somehow he hadn't figured it out yet. Sam came in behind her and proceeded to yell at Dean as well.

Dean awoke with a gasp and looked around. There was no doubt he'd be having trouble seeing. But as soon as he saw the two of them, the Winchester charm kicked in.

"Ahh, Auntie Em. There's no place like home," he breathed.

"You figured it out," she said quietly.

"How'd you do it so fast?" he asked once the Sam had finished removing all the tubes sticking out of him.

"Let's just say I couldn't imagine life without the Winchester charm," she smiled.

* * *

**May 3, 2007**

She never thought she'd be so happy to be in a motel room again. To be honest, cold leftover pie tasted a lot better in familiar surroundings.

"Wait, Gracie, you're telling me your 'haply place' is just me and Sam gone?" Dean asked accusingly.

"No, I thought my life would be easier if my mom was still alive. That was my happy place. And it sucked," she shook her head.

"Yeah, me too," he shrugged, taking a drink of his beer.

"What about you?" she asked carefully.

She knew she wouldn't be in it. Dean and Sam would be happy and they wouldn't have any burdens, including her. Who's to say he wouldn't even have kids?

"The same. I wished my mom was alive. And it was great. But Sammy and I didn't get along, and you weren't there."

It hurt, she'd have to admit. Knowing that her brother thought he'd be happier without her. Knowing that she thought she'd be happier without him.

"Wanna know how I figured it out?"

He grinned, "I thought you just missed me too much."

"I saw your dad in the newspaper. It was the day we left Canaan. One of my biggest wishes growing up was that we stayed there, so when Sam didn't show up for school, I got it."

"Your happy place was when you were thirteen? We've gotta fix that," he chuckled breathlessly. "You really figured it out just because Sammy wasn't in school?"

"I was gonna talk to him about John being in the newspaper, but then he wasn't there. And when you guys left, I just didn't feel right."

She'd never admit that it was the pie that set her off. It was apple pie. She wished for an apple-pie life, and she got one.


	4. Lucky number 13, a year and a month

**December 12, 1998**

_Again and again and again this would happen. It wouldn't stop until she left. It wouldn't stop until she went to college._

First day at a new school. Again. She would have been worried, like she usually was, but this time she just couldn't care. She couldn't care if she got bullied this time. If the older kids pushed her and teased her here. She couldn't care whether they liked her, not here, not this time.

She always hated first days. The same thing always happened. Some bubbly blonde girl would come ask for Sam's number, she'd give it to her and then the girl would go back to her friends and laugh about how strange she was. Then some older boy would trip her and later in the day the same group of kids would push her and some other unfortunate nerd around. That was her day. Every time. No one ever stood up for them. No one ever cared.

"You ready?" Sam asked, as was customary.

"Nope," she said breathlessly as she walked up the steps.

They'd arrived before the bell, leaving them to mingle with the crowd. The crowds, rather. It was the same here. There was one group, the largest, and then little faction-like teams of rejects. She didn't even want to be a part of it here.

"Hey, so that kid, is he your brother?" a girl asked.

"I'm guessing you want his number?" Grace assumed, looking around for her locker.

"Yeah, that must happen a lot," she smiled.

Grace nodded as she wrote down the number. Again. This probably wouldn't be the last time, either.

* * *

**January 30, 1999**

A new year, a new you. Isn't that what they say? A new Grace, that seemed right. She would definitely be okay with being a new person. The new year hadn't really been a big deal. She, as usual, was dragged to a party by Sam. And, as usual, she didn't enjoy herself.

It would've been useless to complain about living in Millstone now. It wasn't really that she didn't like this town, she was just too stubborn to admit that it was even better than Canaan. She had even more friends here, at least four, and thought maybe her lab partner might have a crush on her. And she even thought that maybe she liked him, too.

So things weren't all bad here. She liked it pretty well. She was just too stubborn to admit it.

"Hey, a bunch of us are gonna go out later, you want in?" one of her new found friends asked, closing her locker.

Grace bit her lip hesitantly, "Yeah, I'm in."

* * *

**February 14, 2000**

She watched tiredly as her friends huddled close together next to the fire. February wasn't exactly the perfect time for a fire, but hey, it was Valentine's day, so who cared?

"Hey there," one of her more drunk friends yelled. "You're not special! You don't get to just not join in on the cuddles!"

She laughed breathlessly, but stuffed her hands farther in her pockets. This wasn't really her typical group. They were a bit more, well, more than her normal group.

These people were popular kids, meaning in public, they didn't want to be seen with her. But when it was just their group, they were more than happy to have her around.

"No man, I'm serious. Get over here," the girl demanded.

"Actually," Grace countered. "It's like, way late and I still have homework to do, so," she trailed off, motioning that she should leave. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Her brother would kill her. Both of them would. Sam, for sneaking out and drinking; Dean, for sneaking out, drinking, and taking the Impala. As she started the car, kids behind her cheered at the sudden burst if loud music. She turned it down and drove away slowly.

She liked driving. It was calming, even if she didn't have a license. At least, Dean would say, she had good taste in music.

She turned the doorknob slowly, quietly. It had to have been at least one in the morning and her family wasn't even supposed to know she'd gone out.

"Where have you been?" Dean demanded as soon as she stepped through the door.

She let out the breath she'd been holding and bit her lip in thought. "Out?"

"Are you drunk?" Sam asked, making her sit down on the couch so he could look at her.

"No, why would you think," she stopped. "I'm not drunk."

* * *

**March 26, 2001**

"Hey, where are you?" the voice on the phone asked.

She sighed. "I'm at home, where are you?"

"You have your license, right?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Earl's, I'm at Earl's."

Earl's. Perfect. Just perfect. Earl's didn't mean he was at a friend named Earl's house. In fact, she was pretty sure they didn't know anybody named Earl. Earl's was a local bar and since she'd gotten her license, she'd driven there countless times to pick up one very drunk Dean Winchester.

"I'm on my way."

She wouldn't do this forever. She wouldn't watch him do this for much longer. It wasn't just that she wouldn't, she couldn't. She couldn't bear to see her family fall apart.

Sam was eighteen now, off to college. She would be, too, in two years. Dean was hunting with John, and getting drunk when he wasn't. This wasn't what she wanted the Winchesters to be. They had raised her and asked nothing in return. They didn't ask for anything at all. But this would be her payment. She would fix them. She would make things right.

Until then, she was stuck helping her brother walk out to the car and yelling at him on the way home.

* * *

**April 1, 2002**

April fools. What a fun day. There was nothing notable about this specific April fools day, just her thoughts the same way she'd thought them on many days before this.

There was nothing special about this day, the day of fools, just like there was nothing special about May second or January twenty third. It was the anniversary of the birth of one of the little people. The remembrance of the creation of a foot soldier.

Dean of course insisted they celebrate his little sister's birthday. It wasn't, to him, the same as his own birthday. Mainly because she was the youngest. And partly because she was a girl.

Girls were supposed to have big parties with glitter and all that jazz. That wasn't what she wanted. She'd be happier with diner pie and a hamburger.

_Honestly, she thought the glitter would've been more for the boys._


	5. Help Wanted? Nah

**December 10, 2000**

_She walked into pole. Yes, that'd do. She walked into a pole. Who in their right mind walks into a pole? But what else was she supposed to say? 'Hey there big brother, I got punched in the face today._'

She stood in front of the door, biting her lip nervously. If she just remained calm, maybe he wouldn't notice. Maybe he wouldn't notice she was late. Or the giant bruise on her face. Quietly, she opened the door, hoping he'd be in the kitchen or watching television, something that would distract him.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded.

"I, uhm, I felt asleep. In the library," she stuttered.

He looked at her for a moment, watched her stare down at her feet. "What is that?"

Her breath hitched, "It's nothing."

"Who did this to you?"

"No one, I walked into a pole," she said through clenched jaws.

"Grace Ann who the hell hurt you?" he demanded.

"What, so it's okay for you to come back here bloody and bruised and only half alive because some demon made you and dad his bitches for two damn weeks, but the one time I get hurt by a fucking teenager, it's the end of the world? I said it's nothing, Dean. Leave it."

"I'm trying to help you, Grace. I'm just tryin' to help," he said quietly.

"I don't need your help."

* * *

**December 2, 2010**

She stepped even harder on the accelerator, hoping the answer would come to her. There had to be another way. It could kill him. She wouldn't let that happen. She couldn't.

"Cas?" she whispered, then cleared her throat. "Castiel? Look, I uhm, I know we've never been best friends, and I know I've never really been a perfect Christian, but" she swallowed. "I need some help here Cas. For the first time, I'm not really sure how this will work out. Dean says he'll be okay, but I don't know. I just, I don't know."

She tapped on the steering wheel with her fingers, and on the gas with her foot. She was acting like Dean, she knew. That was the point. Dean always seemed okay, he was always calm. He was the perfect person to act like when she was worried.

"Castiel, I swear if you don't get your winged ass down here I will fucking crash this car," she said, blinking away tears and biting at her lip.

"I'm here."

"Fuck, finally. I get it, I'm third on a list of two, but do I really have to threaten to kill myself for you to answer me?" she chuckled humorlessly.

"Grace, if you killed yourself you would be resurrected. But no, I'm sorry, it shouldn't be that way."

"Why the hell would I be resurrected? I'm not part of anyone's 'destiny' or whatever," she squinted. "Anyways, I don't really care that you're playing favorites right now, I got over that a while ago, but one of my brothers is about to turn the other one's brain into about the equivalent of my breakfast and I'd like some damn company," she breathed.

And then he was gone. Again. The Winchesters always took precedence over everything else and as she very well knew, that didn't include her.

Angels. Such dicks.

She didn't need his help anyways.

* * *

**December 11, 2000**

"Grace," he began quietly.

"I yelled at you last night, I was a jerk, I'm sorry, okay? You didn't deserve it."

"Who was it?" he asked in the same tone.

She sighed. "It was just some senior, doesn't matter."

"Has it happened before?"

"It happens all the time Dean, it doesn't matter," she gave him a sad smile.

"Of course it matters. No matter how much it happens it still matters. It matters because I'm your brother and you matter."

* * *

**December 3, 2010**

_'Why would I be resurrected?' she thought. 'Dean and Sam, I get. But I'm no big deal, I didn't start the apocalypse, sure, I helped end it, but anyone could have done what I did.'_

"Hey Cas," she asked from across the room. "Can angels hear people's thoughts?"

He barely paused to turn and look at her and nod.

_'That is why he hates me. Yup, I figured it out. Of course he would, anyone who could hear what I'm thinking would hate me. For good reason, too. All I am is some spoiled brat who ended up as a Winchester groupie. Go where the action goes, read a book, stab something and then act like a hero.'_

She turned the page on her book absent mindedly. It was no loss, she'd read the book a million times, could probably recite it word for word.

_'And then continue to wallow in self pity after I learn someone could be listening. Let's throw a pity party, hopefully there'll be cake. Speaking of cake, what day is it?'_

"It's the third of December," Cas commented, which probably seemed strange to everyone else.

* * *

**December 14, 2000**

The swelling had gone down, leaving just a purple-ish brown mark around her eye. As usual, since Dean was sleeping, she took the bus. She was bombarded with questions and even more teasing.

She had a math home room, as she had at every school for the past two years which, in her opinion and as Dean would say, was a bag of dicks.

"Honey, are there problems at home?" her homeroom teacher asked.

"What? Why would- no!"

"You can tell me sweetie, it's okay," she said in what Grace assumed was supposed to be soothing voice.

"My family isn't the problem, the problem," she began angrily, "Is the kids in this school. It's not my family's fault that some other kid's parents fucked up somewhere along the line and their kid is a bag of dicks."

"It's not your fault either," she nodded slightly. "Now I don't want to hear anymore of that kind of language from you."

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm here if you need anything," the teacher offered.

"I don't need any help."

* * *

**December 4, 2010**

_'Can anybody really hear this? Does anybody really care? Here's my problem: my brother, he's in some real trouble you see, and the solution is gonna kill him. So I need some help. I'll do anything. I'm willing to make a deal.'_

"Grace," a familiar voice called.

"Hey wait, I wasn't gonna commit suicide this time, why are you here?" she laughed humorlessly.

"I can't let you make a deal."

She sighed. "All I'd be doing is moving my due date, Castiel, it's done."

"What?" Dean asked from behind her.

* * *

**December 16, 2000**

Nothing particularly interesting happened on this day. Dean made dinner, John passed out on the couch, Grace and Sam stayed up studying together. Like most siblings, Sam and Grace had their differences. But they understood boundaries. They knew when they should and shouldn't ask.

"So," Sam said casually. "Can I ask?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Oh, you know, that overgrown freckle around your eye that looks suspiciously like a bruise?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Promise you won't tell Dean?" she waited until he nodded.

"Parker. It was about Parker. This girl told me that he wanted to meet me behind the school, and you know, I went because I've had like the biggest crush on him forever, and I thought maybe he liked me."

"Was he there?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. He was. And so was half the football team and a couple of cheerleaders."

"What did you do?"

"Well, you know, I'm kind of used to the whole getting bullied thing, it's pretty normal, but I guess it was just more than usual. I passed out," she shrugged.

"You should've told me," Dean said quietly, meaning he had heard the whole thing. "I could've helped."

"I don't need help."

* * *

**December 5, 2010**

"You made a deal? What the hell for?"

She swallowed. "Family comes first right? Anyways, I didn't deal for the whole ten years and you're done thing. It was more like when a witch deals for powers."

"Who in the family did you help?" Dean asked.

"Not- not your family Dean. I made a deal, when I die, I become a demon, just like a witch, but while I live, so does my mom."

"You can't just bring someone back. It doesn't work like that. And what part of becoming a demon did you not understand?" Dean fumed.

She wasn't exactly sure where Sam was right now, but she wasn't sure he cared what she did. Soul or no soul he was her brother, and she cared even if he didn't.

"It doesn't matter. Cas said-" she looked at Castiel, who was now looking anywhere but at her. "You- You lied to me. You said- I knew it. I fucking knew it. Everybody I think I can trust."

"I didn't realize that you had made a deal, and I was only trying to help you," he said sorrowfully.

"I don't need your help."

* * *

**December 19, 2010**

She never thought she would be so happy to come home. Christmas vacation had officially started and it was going to be fabulous. It would just be her, Sammy, Dean and dad.

Instead, she found a note on the fridge from the last two.

**Hey, got a case. Be back before Christmas, no parties, call if you need anything.**

'_I don't need their help.'_

* * *

**December 6, 2010**

"Grace," the angel began.

"No, I get it, really. You thought you were helping. Everybody thinks they're helping. It was my fault," she smiled sadly.

"You're upset."

"Aren't you the observant one? No, I'm fine Cas," she rolled her eyes.

"I want to help."

"I don't need any damned help!" she snapped.

* * *

**December 8, 2010**

_'Sammy. He's back. He's really back. Oh, God, is it okay for me to hug him? Does he even want me to? His brains aren't mush, so I'd say were doing okay. Sammy's back. God, that sounds better every time. This is great, I can't even- this is perfect. He doesn't remember Hell, he doesn't remember Samuel, he doesn't remember attacking Bobby. But, if Death blocked out his Hell, what if he doesn't remember me? I mean, I haven't really been the best sister in the world but-'_

Her thoughts were interrupted by her giant of a big brother hugging her so tight she could barely breathe.

"Sammy," she said breathlessly. "I can't breathe."

This moment was perfect. This moment was worth the wait. And this moment, more than anything, was worth the struggle. She was glad she didn't accept any help. This moment was even better knowing she made it by herself.

Even though she did enjoy the company.

* * *

**A/N:**

**So, someone was confused about how the chapters are set up. It's not really one story, it's more like a bunch of smaller stories that make them a family. Also, guys I've got about a hundred views and only two reviews? Can we fix that? By the way, content rating is also going up because I realized how much I actually swear. The name of the document this chapter is made of is called ****_'HOT DAMN DO I REALLY SWEAR THAT_****_MUCH'_**


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